


Something Borrowed, Something Blue

by lesbiansassemble



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Height Differences, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-06 22:48:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15895710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbiansassemble/pseuds/lesbiansassemble
Summary: Why does Steve have to be so tall?orThe one where Tony wishes he wasn't so small, but ends up being thankful for his short stature anyway.





	Something Borrowed, Something Blue

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to: @my-avengers on tumblr, who requested a fluffy stony fic. i hope you enjoy it love! xx  
> You can find me on tumblr @ lesbiansassemble.tumblr.com

Tony huffed into his pillow and reached out blindly for his watch. He blinked his bloodshot eyes open and glanced down at the time. 10:11am.

“Shit.” He uttered under his breath. Pepper was going to murder him. He was supposed to be in a meeting by 9:00. He supposed there was no point in heading over there now. He shook his head, causing a few loose strands of hair to fall into his eyes, and sighed. He would have to apologise to her later.

Belatedly, he glanced over to the empty space beside him, and idly wondered where Steve was. Knowing Steve, he was probably out for his morning run. Tony inwardly cursed his super-soldier boyfriend and his immunity to alcohol.

With a yawn, he clamberd out of Steve’s bed. After stretching his back, which let out a satisfying _crack_ , his bleary eyes scanned the room for the outfit he wore last night. After a lengthy search, he eventually found his clothes in a sodden pile behind the bathroom door.

“Fuuuck.” He groaned under his breath. He’d completely forgotten that they were both drenched last night after walking in the rain all the way back to Steve’s place. He’d been too drunk last night to consider hanging them up to dry.

Deeply regretting his alcohol intake from the night before, Tony attempted to ignore the incessant pounding in his head as he shuffled over to Steve’s wardrobe. After a few moments of rummaging around in there, he came across a white shirt that looked identical to the one he wore last night. Perfect, he thought to himself. Pepper wouldn’t suspect a thing. It was still early days in his relationship with Steve, and he didn’t feel ready to tell anyone yet.

Grabbing the shirt, he shrugged his arms into the sleeves, but found, much to his dismay, that the sleeves were not only too long, but that the hem of the shirt almost reached his knees.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Rogers?!” he growled. The man was a damn giant ( _and_ _Tony has never been one to acknowledge his short stature_ ). He took a glance at his reflection in the mirror and scowled. For fuck’s sake, he may as well have been wearing a sack.

Taking the shirt off with a little more force than necessary, he shoved it back into the wardrobe. It was at that moment that he heard the clattering of pots and pans coming from the kitchen. Steve must have returned home from his run.

Deciding to abandon the idea of wearing one of his shirts, he began to rifle through Steve’s drawers. Unfortunately, the only top he could find was a navy blue one with Captain America’s shield printed on the front, which had been a gag gift from Tony last Christmas.

“Karma’s a bitch.” He sighed.

Tony idly wondered whether the shirt was the better option, because at least he wouldn’t be parading around in his boyfriends merchandise like an idiot. In the end, however, he decided that it would be even more embarrassing to wear something that emphasised his lack of height.

Tony pulled on the t-shirt, and found that although it was a little baggy, it didn’t appear to drown him as much as the shirt had. He then rummaged around for some trousers, and came across a pair of marl grey sweatpants. He slipped them on, and rolled his eyes at their ridiculously large size. After pulling the drawstring as tight as he could, he began to roll up the pant legs so that they were cuffed above his ankles. Turning once again to face the mirror, he groaned at the sight before him. He looked like a kid wearing his dad’s clothes, but it would have to do.

Haphazardly running a hand through his unkempt hair, he left the bedroom and followed the smell of freshly made pancakes wafting its way through the corridor from the kitchen. Attempting to appear nonchalant, Tony folded his arms against his chest, held his head up high and walked into the kitchen purposefully.

At the sound of Tony’s footsteps, Steve, who was hovering by the stove, turned around and took in his partner’s appearance with raised eyebrows.

Just as soon as his lips parted to comment on it, Tony interjected, “Not. A. Word. Rogers. My suit is still soaking from last night.”

Steve couldn’t help but grin at the slight flush to Tony’s cheeks. “I was just going to ask you if you wanted chocolate chips in your pancakes.”

“Sure you were. Has anyone ever told you you’re a terrible liar, Steve?” Tony huffed, as he began to make a pot of coffee. Hopefully the caffeine would get rid of his pounding headache (and distract him from Steve’s fixated gaze). “—And just plain ones for me, thanks.”

Steve smiled slightly and nodded, before adding the batter to the pan. After a few moments of silence, filled only by the bubbling of the pancake batter, he said “Y’know, I didn’t take you for such a patriot, Tony.”

Tony merely shot him a brief pointed glare as he began to pour the brewed coffee into two mugs.

After placing the spatula on the counter, Steve left the stove and embraced Tony from behind, placing a firm kiss on his cheek. “I’m only teasing. And honestly, I think you look sw—” Steve’s eyes widened momentarily at his own slip up, realising that Tony would absolutely _not_ appreciate being called _sweet_. “Uhh…very attractive, wearing my clothes.” He amended.

Tony’s head snapped up, before he whipped around to face Steve. “Were you going to say _sweet_?”

“No! Sw-Sweaty? No, oh god, uhh….I meant swell. That’s right, swell. You look swell, Tony.”

Tony shook his head slightly, but he couldn’t help the corner of his lip twitching into a small smile as he rolled his eyes fondly. “Keep digging, Steve.”

“Y’know, you don’t look half bad in blue.” Steve replied, hoping to change the subject.

Tony raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. “Are you insinuating I don’t look good in other colours, Steve?” he teased, as he picked up the mugs.

Steve gaped like a fish. “No! No, I just meant—” His rambling was cut off as he felt a warm cup of coffee placed into his grasp.

“I know what you meant Steve, I’m just pulling your leg.” Tony smirked, before pecking him softly on the lips.

Steve, blushing furiously, decided to return to the stove and focus on flipping the pancakes.

For a while, the only sounds were the sizzling of the pan and Tony occasionally sipping his coffee. After the pancakes turned a nice amber colour, Steve served them on to two plates, handing one over to Tony as he took the seat opposite him.

Tony, with the vigour of someone who hadn’t eaten in days, immediately took a bite out of his maple syrup covered breakfast. Tony hummed in delight. “Fuff me, eesh ah really goodsh.( _Fuck me, these are really good._ )” He said around a mouthful of pancake.

Steve merely grimaced at having seen the chewed up contents inside Tony’s mouth.

Tony swallowed. “Sorry.” He said, attempting to look apologetic. “I was just saying how good they were. How did you learn to make pancakes like that? I haven’t had a good homemade one like that in years.” At least, not since he visited Rhodey’s family during his time at college, he supposed.

“Pepper taught me when I was staying over at the tower.” Steve shrugged.

“ _Pepper?!_ How come she’s never taught me anything like that?” Tony said, looking affronted.

“Would you have paid attention to her, _or_ had the intention of ever making them yourself?”

“Well, I –” he began. Then, feeling the weight of Steve’s gaze, he deflated slightly. “—No.” Tony finally admitted, albeit a little sheepishly.

“Then, there you go.” Steve smirked.

“Fine! But I’m expecting you to make these every time I stay over.”

“Alright. And if you like them so much, you’ll just have to stay here more often, won’t you?” Steve quipped back, looking amused.

Tony, surprised slightly at how uncharacteristically forward Steve was being, froze momentarily, his fork hovering beside his mouth. “Yeah, I guess I should.” He replied, the corner of his lips tugging into a smile.

After a brief awkward silence, Steve said “So, I was thinking. You don’t need to be back at the tower for another hour or so, right? We could just put your clothes in the dryer and they’ll be ready before you need to go.”

Tony waved his fork dismissively. “Nah, it’s fine. I’ll do it back at my place.”

Steve raised an eyebrow.

“It’s a lot of hassle for nothing. I’ll just dry them at the tower.” Tony explained.

Steve continued to stare at him, his expression unreadable.

“What?” Tony says.

Steve’s lips begin to curve into a smile.

“ _What?_ ” Tony demands, feeling a little exasperated. What on earth was Steve so happy about all of a sudden?

“You like wearing my clothes.” He finally points out.

“I do **not**!”

“Yes, you do!” Steve chuckles.

“No, I don’t!”

“Then how come you don’t want your clothes dried before you leave?”

“Fine, maybe I do. So what? They’re comfortable and—” Tony admits. “—And they smell nice.” He mumbles as an afterthought. The fact that he likes the smell because it reminds him of Steve is left unsaid.

Steve just grins even wider.

“Hey! Don’t look so smug.” Tony scowls.

Steve shakes his head fondly, and says, “I love you, Tony.”

Tony, slightly taken aback by the sudden change in conversation, raises his eyebrows slightly. His expression gradually softens as he registers his words.

“I love you too, Steve.” He says, a small smile playing on his lips.


End file.
